


coffee in iv drips

by ebi fry (Elliasinism)



Series: prayers before the meal [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Addiction, Food, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, based on the first bad end?, use a microscope for romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29179587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elliasinism/pseuds/ebi%20fry
Summary: “Caffeine; lots of it,” the younger boy said with a horribly obnoxious wink. “To power your day.”“Thanks,” the older had responded, a saccharine smile on his face. “I’ll need it.”
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: prayers before the meal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137539
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	coffee in iv drips

Leblanc, an unassuming little cafe in Yongen-Jaya with barely any customers.

The regulars are a lot of bumbling old fools who think their opinions hold value greater than any other’s.

“ _Young people these days_.”

“ _In the olden, we did things this way and never complained_.”

“ _This country is doomed_.”

“ _Phantom Thieves, they’re probably just a bunch of young people_.”

“ _Everyone should follow this Shido guy’s example_.”

And Goro would have to grit his teeth and smile through them, some of them recognising him and asking him for his opinion.

“ _That’s good_ ,” they’d respond after Goro spouts something he doesn’t care about, something that would feed their little egos. “ _More kids should follow through your line of thinking!_ ”

And Goro hates it, their all-knowing attitudes. Their blabbing words that speak of the future and things to come. Their talks that die the moment it leaves their mouths. Words that fill the brain and make it rot.

They talk and talk and talk.

They never shut up.

Never stops.

Goro hates it all.

  
  
  
  
But, like all the other regulars, like a fool, Goro would still come back to Leblanc.

The discussions leave a sour taste in his mouth, coupled with the saccharine lies his lips tell everyday that quickly turn bitter as they stay on his tongue; never failing to remind him of more acid to drink and more acid to spill.

But Kurusu’s coffee was different.

It was not bitter, was not sweet. It’s not bland, but also does not overpower your tongue with flavor.

And Goro likes the taste of it.

He takes careful sips, basking in the wonderfully crafted balance of its taste. He notes the way the liquid slides down his tongue and travels through his throat. He revels on the way it scalds his flesh the moment he forgets to drink slowly.

The sensation of it crawling down his gullet and scrapes at his muscles.

The way it makes him swallow the tissues of all his lies and pleasantry without having to taste it.

It’s a cleanse, even for just a moment, where his tongue would taste nothing but Kurusu’s blend of coffee.

(“ _How is it?_ ”

“ _It’s good. Thank you, Kurusu-kun._ ”)

Every time Goro would go to Leblanc.

Every time, he will sit on the same seat

Every time, Sakura would call Kurusu and huff out, “Your customer’s here.”

Every time, Kurusu would smile at him, “Wait a moment,” he’d say, and work his magic.

Every time, the blend tastes the same.

Every time, Kurusu would look at him, charcoal dark eyes that search his gaze.

Every time, Goro would offer a sickly smile and the coffee would wash the sugar away.

Kurusu would say, “anytime,” and Goro would pay and leave.

And he comes back.

Again.

And again.

And again.

He ignores the talks, the whispers, the words.

He would come back and order coffee, drown in the taste of it.

He drinks and thinks of tomorrow.

He drinks and knows tomorrow would come.

He drinks and realizes tomorrow would only come if he drinks again.

And Goro has now ascertained that he’s addicted.

And of course it was bad, of course it was _horrible_. He’s going to kill Kurusu for fuck’s sake!

He’s going to drive a bullet inside Kurusu’s skull - have his blood on Goro’s hands.

Kurusu, the one who brews the coffee that clears the stains away. The one who would always look at him and expects gratefulness, like Goro’s appreciation meant shit.

Kurusu, the one who provides; his sustenance; his fucking _daily bread_.

And Goro has to stop. He should find a way to return to back when his tongue tasted bitter, tasted like bile. Back when he could sleep at night with grime contaminating his mouth; thorns constricting his throat. He _needs_ to find away to get out of this mess.

So he thinks and thinks and _thinks_ \--

And he formulates a plan.

A plan that dies the moment it leaves his mouth.

Once the coffee touches his tongue, everything else does not matter.

And Goro, like all the foolish regulars of Leblanc, could not stop.

  
  
  
  
Kurusu is still doing his best to feed him; Goro swallows his own poison.

  
  
  
  
The day is fast approaching, yet Goro still asks for another cup of coffee.

  
  
  
  
On the fateful day, Kurusu offers him a cup.

Goro takes it.

“Thank you for the coffee, Kurusu-kun.”

“Anytime.”

  
  
  
  
The dingy hallway tinted grey seems to intent on suffocating him as he walked its muted length.

The only color to be seen was Sae approaching him but even she seemed to blend in.

“Akechi-kun!” surprised if the way her eyes widened slightly and the inflection on her voice is any indication.

She tells him how she had a hard time getting access so how did he get here? He tells her they assigned him command, but he was joking, of course.

She tells him what she got out of the leader, he tells her he can’t come out without evidence now, can he?

She tells him good luck.

“Thank you,” he tells her, “I need that.” and he wishes that the small voice so sickly sweet was just another lie he has to swallow.

  
  
  
  
More grey hallways. More grey doors.

A sight of blue and the gun on its back.

Gunmetal eyes that still, somehow, searched scarlet.

 _It’s going to be alright_. And Goro doesn’t know which one of them said it, or which one of them needed it.

Perhaps both; perhaps neither.

Goro smiles.

Kurusu smiled back; seemed to have finally found what he was looking for.

And Goro basks at the presence of the boy who brews amazing coffee.

Kurusu whose blends are so unique he tastes them even during the after hours.

Whose blends have continued to let him breathe.

His addiction.

“Before I die,” a boy had said. “Would you let me have one final drink?”

  
  
  
  
Outside the television studio, with a can of iced coffee on hand, Goro wonders if tomorrow would come.

**Author's Note:**

> im really sorry but writing akechi is so hard and my brain was really mush when i wrote this (i am also very smol brain :V) but if you still read it, thank you ^^
> 
> [based on this!](https://youtu.be/dDxJfWAy9oU) and my love/hate relationship with burgers.


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